Untitled
by DayDreamN
Summary: Things have changed for Logan and Rogue... And they're going to change again. A/N: This story is a One-Shot set between the X2 and X3 universes. Rated M for adult themes (AKA, a lemon! LOL) I'm always #TeamRogan I hope you enjoy :-) Disclaimer: I own no characters in this story, and make ZERO money for using them. Please don't sue me! I'm broke!


Funny how _one_ thing can completely change _everything_. Granted, the _one _thing was a _major_ thing, but still… Things had changed drastically.

Ororo had always thought herself an early bird, supposed she still was, actually. In the last few months though, it hadn't become a strange anomaly to find her roaming the halls of the mansion at two in the morning, precisely what she was doing now. After everything that had happened, she found herself always watching, searching, and waiting somehow. Late to bed and early to rise had become her routine after the mansion was attacked, making her sleep deprived and slightly caffeine dependent. She constantly worried about the safety of the children, almost to the point that it was debilitating. And so every night since they'd returned to their home that monster Stryker had viciously invaded, she watched, searched and waited for an intruder she prayed would never come.

A few were still reeling from the invasion, taking it all day by day, but most were back to normal. _Most_. Because Stryker's attack on the mansion wasn't even that _one _major thing, Jean Grey's death at Alkali Lake was. Scott, as could be expected, was one of the few and the definite _worst_ of all still being affected. After losing Jean, he'd become the opposite of Ororo. Early to bed and late to rise, he encased himself in as much solitude as possible. He avoided all interaction completely, and if he did make it out of the room he shared with his lost love, it was in the middle of the night to visit local bars where he'd attempt to drink himself into the afterlife with her. Ororo closed her eyes and sent up a silent prayer of thanks that she wouldn't be receiving an urgent mental call from the Professor tonight to pick up an ill and intoxicated Scott from any pub floors. He'd had a few drinks earlier this evening, and quickly called it a night. She'd tucked him in herself.

She knew Scott would be completely devastated, but expected this type of destructive behavior more from Logan. Of course, he was crushed too. She knew his feelings for Jean were just as strong as Scott's, maybe somewhat different, but just as strong. After it happened, he seemed more shocked and disbelieving than anything. His display of emotions puzzled her though. She expected him to be angry, mad at every_thing_ and ever_yone_ for her loss… His loss. Instead, he was only genuinely sad. While Scott seemed to scream his hate for the world, Logan brooded about in utter despair. She didn't remember how many stages there were until one reached the acceptance of death, but she knew Logan was _much_ farther along than Scott was.

Ororo sighed, wondering to herself if Scott would ever be able to move forward. Holding firmly to a mug filled with hot water and honey, she repeatedly lifted and dunked the small bag of green tea leaves beneath the liquid. With both hands, she lifted the steaming mug beneath her nose and tipped her head down. Closing her eyes, she inhaled the soothing aroma and decided she'd been up long enough. Ororo continued the slow walk to her room finally feeling more relaxed when _another_ drastic change, that was now all too familiar at this hour, made itself known. She gave them credit for trying to be discreet, but there was no mistaking what those small sounds meant. Making it to her room at the end of the hall, she still didn't exactly know how to feel about the two people making those sounds being Logan and Rogue.

The faint squeaking of the bedsprings… Soft, steady thumping of the wooden headboard meeting the wall… Rustling sound of her knees against the sheets as she rocked back and forth on top of him… All notes in the symphony playing in his bedroom like music to his ears. Her pants and moans being the crescendo, literally and figuratively. He gazed up at her and marveled at how beautiful she was. Only illuminated by the streaks of moonlight streaming into his window, her flawless, ivory skin glowed with a thin sheen of sweat courtesy of him. Her head was thrown back, spine arching inward. Thick, wavy chestnut hair tumbled down her back, platinum locks down the center. Full, soft, swollen lips slightly parted and eyes closed with long lashes. Barring the sheer, silk scarf tied loosely around her neck and the pair of silk gloves on her hands, now resting on his chest beneath his long-sleeve t-shirt, she was gloriously naked. Logan couldn't help but smile.

The smile was short-lived, however, when she began rolling her hips down onto him harder and faster. His eyes closed involuntarily and he exhaled an impassioned groan at the feeling of being embedded inside her. Taking hold of her hips in his own gloved hands, he pushed up into her deeply, causing her to gasp and press her hands into his chest to keep her balance. He slowly withdrew from her before slamming back in to the hilt. Penetrating her again and again, she matched him thrust for thrust, her body jerking forward each time. He ran his gloved hands from her hips, up her back, then back around to cup her bouncing, creamy breasts while she continued to bury his member in her warmth.

He squeezed and massaged her ample breasts before sweeping his thumbs across her already hard nipples. He gave each a tiny pinch and her hands flew on top of his, holding them in place. The motion made him open his eyes again, and he was rewarded when Marie's head rolled forward revealing her chocolate, doe eyes. He stared at her enticingly biting her lower lip, and with her sexy, unruly hair now spilling to the front, he thought her a vision. She was the ultimate contradiction, possessing the face of an angel with lips and a body that were pure sin. He exhaled raggedly at the notion.

Marie held his intense gaze as she used both her hands to pry one of his from her breasts, lifting it to lick the inside from his palm to the tip of his middle finger. Still looking him in the eyes, she leisurely began to suck the gloved digit, licking and swirling her tongue around the tip. He whimpered at the sensation and reflexively bucked his hips up into hers roughly in retaliation. Maintaining eye contact with her, he eased his other hand away from her breasts, skimming his fingertips down the center of her flat stomach to the juncture of her thighs. Eyes still locked, his thumb easily zeroed in on its destination and he abruptly began circling her clit, never ceasing his unrelenting thrusts inside her.

Mouth relaxed and jaw slacked, both signs of how much satisfaction she felt, Marie was no longer able to hold the finger she was sucking in her mouth anymore. Now she could only allow it to rest against her open lips, and he grinned at her predicament. She mustered a small glare to throw his way before shutting her eyes again. Logan switched from the circular motion to rubbing up and down vigorously on her clit, able to feel her climax building from the inside out. She was quivering violently and would have toppled over had it not been for him tearing his other hand away from her lips and planting it on her hip to anchor her in place. And still, he pushed up into her deeply, one hand steadying her, the other back to circling her clit but with more pressure this time as she grinded her hips down onto his.

The deep, labored breathing was a dead give away to how close she was. And close she _was_. Barely able to hold on, she dropped down onto his chest, propped up only slightly by her forearms and elbows. He pumped and rubbed again and again, still holding onto her hip and her clit as she bucked wildly onto him. The loose scarf around her neck fluttered down over his chin, but he leaned up and kissed her briefly with bare lips feeling a residual buzz. Flushed and panting, she traced his lips with her silk covered fingers and he kissed them tenderly. Smirking, she lifted the end of the scarf, placed it over his mouth and proceeded to kiss him avidly and thoroughly. After one last brush of his thumb, Logan removed his hand from the small space between them, and both hands trailed down to grasp her bottom. Settled fully on him now, only his long-sleeve t-shirt, pajama pants, and a condom separating their bodies, he used his tongue to survey her mouth the same way his member was surveying her warm core.

Gripping her rear, he drove in deeply as she ground her pelvis into his over and over again in desperate search of release. His groans and grunts and growls in her ear making her insane with desire. She was going over any moment now, and he could feel it. He could smell it with his feral senses. She moaned audibly into his mouth as they kissed and erratically hammered down onto his engorged shaft. She twisted her fingers into the fabric of his shirt where it covered his shoulders and tucked her head beneath his chin, resting her face against his chest, before threading her long fingers into his thick, wild hair. She pulled at it when he slapped her backside, held it firmly with fingers imprinting her flesh, and increased the speed of his thrusts.

"Oh God…" she choked out, her fingers grasping at his scalp. "Ooh… Yes… Oh God, yes... Logan... Logan… Logan!" came her muffled cry at the very same time he half moaned, half growled her name as her still trembling core clamped down on his throbbing appendage. And she was seeing stars, literally. Bursts of bright white danced behind her eyelids as she fell over the cliff of her climax and blissfully embraced the gratifying freefall. His chest heaving with labored breathing, he lifted a hand to run his fingers through her wavy hair while the other lazily stroked her back as they recovered.

"You alright, Darlin'?" he asked, still fixed inside her and catching his breath.

"Mm hmm," she smiled, nodding against his covered chest. For a moment, she relished the sound of his strongly beating heart beneath her ear, and then with luring eyes looked up at him. "You?"

He smiled back and kissed the top of her head before quickly and expertly flipping them over so that she was on her back. "Ready for round two," he smirked seductively.

Marie paced, anxiously, back and forth across her room. Sure that she'd worn splinters into the Professor's immaculate hardwood floors, she wished Logan would hurry up and get back. Sure, she hadn't really expected to see him that morning. He had an early self defense class to teach, and she always snuck back to her own bedroom before dawn. It was their routine. But where Logan had been sent to now was… _impossible_. She'd heard from Jublilee, who heard from Bobby who said he'd overheard the Professor talking to Hank. And if it was true, she didn't know _how_ to feel. The sound of a door, _his_ door, nudged Marie out of her own head and into the hallway.

Holding her breath, she crossed the short distance from her room to Logan's down the hall. She exhaled slowly and nervously bit her lip before lifting her hand to lightly tap on the partially open door. "Hey," she softly greeted when the door parted enough for her to poke her head through.

"Hey," Logan replied, glancing at her over his shoulder before shedding his leather jacket and tossing it onto the chair. She stepped inside the room, shut the door and rested her back against it.

"So…" she began, looking around the room then settled on watching him sit on the bed and take off his boots. "Is it true?" she asked averting her eyes to the floor.

"Is what true?" he responded, still unlacing his boots and not looking at her.

"Jean," she said. "Is it true that she's _alive_? That she's _here_?" she inquired looking right at him.

"Yes," he responded, simply, finally meeting her eyes. Marie was stunned. It had been more than eight months since the day Jean Grey gave her life to save everyone at Alkali Lake. Eight months. A _lot_ had changed since then. The nature of her and Logan's 'relationship' was _definitely _one of them. Now, all of a sudden, the woman had returned from the grave?

"Is… Is she okay?" Marie stammered, wide-eyed and not sure how to react. Had it not been for the fact that Logan never made it his way to lie to _anyone_ she might not have believed him.

"Don't know," he sighed, shaking his head. "She passed out in the jet right before we got here, and has been unconscious ever since… The Professor's down in the MedLab with her now."

"But…" she started still in disbelief. "How… Does the Professor know _how_? How she…"

"Not yet," he answered, not needing her to finish the question. "And we can't find Scott," he added seriously. Once, they threw jabs at each other for wanting the same woman. But after Alkali Lake, they had formed somewhat of a strange yet agreeable understanding. Underneath it all, Logan _did _hold some concern for the other man and vice versa.

"What do you mean?" she asked, worry etched in the space between her eyebrows. "Can't the Professor contact him?"

"He hasn't been able to," he answered standing up barefoot. "Apparently, it was _Scott's_ mental distress call that alerted Chuck to Alkali Lake." He sighed. "He's tryin' to read Jean now… See if she knows where he is." Marie only nodded and let the room fall quiet.

"Are _you_ okay?" she almost whispered looking at the floor, finally penetrating the silence after a few minutes. She could _feel_ his eyes on her, but he didn't open his mouth to speak. She chose to take that as a cue to elaborate. "With… her… Jean…" She huffed, frustrated with herself for not being able to form a complete sentence containing the woman's name. She took a deep breath and met his piercing hazel eyes. "I mean… She's _back_. The woman you loved… _Love_," she corrected herself as an almost afterthought.

Logan's gaze quickly fell on anything and everything that wasn't her, and Marie immediately knew what that meant. After all, she wasn't a fool and never expected whatever she had with Logan to go anywhere. They were friends, _best_ friends. Though for the past couple of months that status had been upgraded to 'friends with benefits,' she knew better than to try and make it anything more than what it was. They had only detoured onto their sexual expedition out of mutual need for comfort and release. And who better to trust to get you there than your BFF? That, however, would never change the fact that she _did _have feelings for him and always would. And at the acknowledgement of _that _fact, she could feel her heart start to break despite telling herself just how stupid that would be.

"Well… I'm sure you'll wanna get back to her," Marie said pushing her body off the door, hoping he wouldn't be able to detect her melancholy. The last thing she needed was for him to see her crying like a child when it had taken so long for him _not_ to see her that way. "Really, I just came for these," she motioned towards the scarves openly hanging across his headboard. Stepping forward past him, she ran gloved fingertips along the edge of one, remembering what it was used for a week prior. She wanted to smile and cry at the same time.

"Kid…" he started quietly, with his head still bowed and back still turned to her. She froze instantly at the mention of her nickname. A hard lump formed in her throat, effectively concealing the sob threatening to break free from her and making it painful to swallow. Blinking when she finally realized her eyes had been stinging from merely staring at the window across the room, Marie returned her gaze to the scarves lining his headboard. She allowed her vision to take them all in. Pastels, deep earth and jewel tones, stripes, polka dots, paisleys, silk, lace, and chiffon all caressed by her pupils looped around the wood, for what she knew was the last time. Their untitled union essentially ended by his use of one word. Marie shut her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nose, exhaling it through the same passage.

"Its fine, Logan," she replied after opening her eyes and pushing past the lump to find her voice again. Without sparing him a glance, she leaned forward and tugged on each loose knot, undoing them two at a time. They slid from the headboard easily and she draped them around her neck swiftly, angrily, as she went. She released a startled gasp when reaching for the last scarf. Logan's bare hand stealthily intercepted her gloved one before she could get to the silky, floral-print fabric.

Logan held her hand in his grip, but couldn't find any words to say. What _could_ he say? Marie was the girl he'd give his life for. The girl he knew would give her life for him. She'd given him her virginity, and her heart, the latter without meaning to. But he always saw it. He always knew it. He had needed her and she knew it. She gave him all of herself without a second thought. Maybe even without a first. As wrong as it all seemed at first, it felt so right to him now. It was easy and so effortless with her. She understood him probably more than he understood himself. How could he walk away from something like that? _Jean_. Logan sighed at the thought. He was shocked to say the least when he was told of the news. Jean was alive. There was a time shortly before Alkali Lake when he really felt he had a shot with her. A real shot. Logan didn't know why, but some part of him called to her. Unsure if it was just to challenge Scott or if there was really something deeper, he closed his eyes still holding onto Marie's hand. The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt _her_. But then again, she _did_ know him better than he knew himself.

Deciding it would be best if she just made the choice for him… For them… Marie slowly, gently, slipped her hand from Logan's light grip. It was better this way. She couldn't bear it if he actually said the words. Her body faced the bed, and his faced away from it. His head was still bowed, eyes still closed. He looked pained. So was she. Marie glanced at him then quickly returned to her task with tears in her eyes. She reached for the last scarf with no resistance, from anyone, this time. Instead of draping it around her neck like the others, she held this one in her gloved hands. She stared at it. It was the one she wore last night. Deep, red lipstick smudges smeared the fabric and camouflaged the flowers in some places. That shade was Logan's favorite. Said he loved the way it contrasted with her skin when she wore it. Marie wondered to herself if she would wash that scarf... If she _should_. She didn't know what she wanted to do with what would be the very last memory of _them_. Then, knowing Logan as well as she _thought_ she did, he surprised her.

"Please," he requested in a raspy voice with his hand lowered in the direction of the scarf she held.

"What?" Marie questioned, confused as a tear slid down her cheek.

Logan opened his eyes to look at her, and his heart broke at what he saw on her face. _He_ had done this to her. To his best friend, the person he trusted and cared for most. He wanted to reach out and hold her, comfort her, kiss her. But he knew that would probably only make this worse. They both knew what was happening, and there was no stopping it now. "Please," he repeated, motioning for the scarf.

Marie shuddered and closed her eyes. She was angry now too. Part of her couldn't believe his nerve, but the other part understood that Logan was nothing less than straight forward. He had made this decision for both of them. Marie inhaled a deep breath through her nose. As she slowly exhaled the breath through her mouth, her hold on the scarf loosened. Logan collected the scarf as she released it, until it was completely in his hand.

It was done. Whatever they were, or weren't, was over. Both Logan and Marie knew this was another defining moment in their relationship. Another point where they would never be the same again, just as it was the first time they made love.

Marie didn't know what the future would hold for them, but she _did_ know that right now wasn't the time to try and figure it out. She reached up and wiped her eyes with gloved fingertips. Without another word, she quietly left Logan's room and shut the door behind her.

He watched her go. It was hard for him not to go after her, but knew it would be best if he didn't. It wasn't until the door was closed that Logan lifted the lipstick stained scarf to his face, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply. That scarf held the freshest, most recent scent of Marie. He needed that. After this, on nights when nothing else will be able to comfort him like she could, he would need it. Logan lowered the scarf from his face and folded it neatly. He then placed it in a small drawer filled with the few things that mean the most to him… Right beside the soft pair of worn leather gloves he used with Marie the night before. Logan sat down on the edge of his bed and stared into the open drawer. He would get an update about Jean later. For now, he would think about just maybe… what could have been.


End file.
